The It Girl [COMPLETED]

Chapter 48 - "Your senior Homecoming Court King is..."

"Cory."

Courtney's name said in a forceful voice was accompanied by a smack on her leg. Sleep had a stronger pull than the stinging in her leg but the want to know the identity of her abuser was stronger than both. Prying one eye open, Courtney peered into the face of her offender.

Despite proof she was no longer asleep, Miles hit her leg again. "Get up."

Courtney closed her eye, sinking back to her bed. Never become a doctor, Miles. You have no comforting bedside manner. Your manners are in fact quite violent. She reached up to rub her eyes, but Miles snatched her wrists before she could.

"You'll ruin your makeup," Miles said. "You have to get up. Lynn's been calling you and she called me. You need to get to Homecoming. They are going to announce Homecoming Court."

That all sounded urgent but Courtney rolled from her back to her side, stretching. "Calm down. I'm not late. I set an alarm."

"If you did you slept through it, you dumbo," Miles said. "It's eight-thirty."

Eight-thirty. Funny. Eight-thirty. It was still light outside. Courtney tilted her head to inspect her window, just to confirm this fact. At the completely dark sky, she jolted upright.

"It's eight-thirty!" she said. "I need to be at Homecoming. They're going to announce Homecoming Court now."

Miles stared at her. "You don't say."

Courtney snatched up her phone, seeing the evidence of Lynn and others trying to reach her. She'd missed it all. Swearing, Courtney called Lynn as she hurried into her bathroom as fast as she could on sleepy legs and a braced ankle.

"Where are you!" Lynn shouted through the phone.

Courtney winced but not at her friend's justifiable exclamation but at the state of her once nicely blow-dried hair.

"Mr. Scholar said they are going to announce the Court winners. I'm asking him to hold off for you."

Courtney stood before the mirror in her comfy outfit, her makeup still intact but her hair frazzled. She was in no state to go to Homecoming like that. But after the exhaustion, physical and emotional, of the last week she found she didn't care. What did Micah always tell her: be real. This version of her was as real as she could be in the moment.

"I'm on my way," Courtney said. "Ask him to wait ten minutes."

"Okay. But move your butt, girl!"

Ending the call, Courtney quickly tied her hair back in a half-decent ponytail and dashed, again in the sense that there was urgency in her movements if not complete speed, back to her room. Tugging on a pair of battered cheer sneakers, she grabbed her car keys. Though she wanted to race down the stairs, self-preservation and weeks of ankle pain, kept her from that level of stupidity.

Only when she sat in her car, navigating the roads to school at a pace that was parent-approved and not at all breaking any speed limit laws, did Courtney fully register her impulsive decision. At a stop light, she took at her outfit. Though comfy and marginally cute, what she wore wasn't fit for the dance.

Worst off, what would Micah think if he saw her like that? That was if he was there. He would be there, wouldn't he? They hadn't shopped for a Homecoming outfit but that was only because he said he had one. Would their break keep him from showing up?

Part of her didn't think it would. On the phone, he hadn't sounded like he hated her. If he came to Homecoming they could finally talk and sort everything out. He has to come. He will come. He will be there. I know he will. It will be fine.